


Post-Holiday Reds

by wesleyfanfiction_archivist



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-06-02
Updated: 2005-06-02
Packaged: 2018-07-12 09:00:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7095364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wesleyfanfiction_archivist/pseuds/wesleyfanfiction_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Back from a short holiday in Ireland Wes and Angel re-evaluate their relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Post-Holiday Reds

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Versaphile, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [WesleyFanfiction.net](http://fanlore.org/wiki/WesleyFanFiction.Net). Deciding that it needed to have a more long-term home, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in February 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact the e-mail address on [WesleyFanfiction.net collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/wesleyfanfiction/profile).

He doesn’t understand anything at all. Not that I have changed and hate that he witnessed it. Not that he thinks just loving me threw away my need to hurt him. I know I shouldn’t. But it keeps coming back to the things I can’t control. Doesn’t it? 

We don’t connect anymore – we collide. But he’s so obviously trying to deceive himself and just because he is my Wesley I often forget how very young he still is.

I wish I could just take him in my arms, make love to him, renew the old promises and then fall asleep wrapped around him knowing tomorrow would always be a good day. But I don’t have the energy to keep up this fantasy. I am so sorry Wes …  
 _  
He hasn’t been the same. I’m supposed to be smarter than that but that’s all I can pick up. I should never have agreed to go to Ireland. But who knows if things wouldn’t have ended up even worse? ‘Even worse?’ So there it is: they’re not good now. I have so many questions I’d like to pose. But I’m afraid, so very afraid that it will only push him away from me. And I need him more than I had realized before. I’m a coward hanging on to a rock of strength and I never want to let go. Ever._

This morning he said he wanted to stay with me during the day. So I let him. His breathing so irregular. His heart racing. Every once in a while I woke up and there he was – sometimes in agitated sleep; others looking so deep into my eyes I almost had to turn away. But I love him, so I didn’t – I just let his eyes pierce through the many layers of the things I’ve done. Into my soul. Can he just tell me how to fix all this mess that came back with me, all this unresolved anger? Wes, can you help me?  
 __  
I like the way his body feels next to me. Cooling all my fevered anxieties down, but not too much. Only enough for me to give him back some of the warmth he may have been missing for all these centuries. Kissing every inch of his skin, tracing patterns on his back for my tongue to follow. Swallowing his very essence into me and turning it into something even more alive than my urgency to be taken by him. God, Angel … Please … More … Help me. Fuck me. Save me. Stay …  
  
He doesn’t stare into my soul now. He wants to be made love to, frequently and I oblige. In a way it makes it easier. We both know what we want from each other.  
But something inside me still lurking hasn’t given up. It wants his blood. Badly.


End file.
